Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,55
my wrist, the skin dimpling. The pressure didn’t hurt, and his breath was hot against my skin.
He tugged on my arm. I went, pulling the blanket along with me.
He led me toward the fire before he let me go. He huffed, a low sound that was almost like a whisper.
I spread the blanket out on the floor before lying down.
He sat next to me, staring at the fire.
I waited.
A moment later he hung his head, ears drooping.
And then he lay down, curling himself around me, tail curling over my legs.
I lifted my head as he pushed his nose against my ear. He moved closer, and I lay back against his neck.
His tail thumped once. Twice.
He laid his head over my shoulder, his chin resting on my chest.
It felt like it did before.
When we were home.
I thought I saw Kelly standing in the corner of the cabin, but there was nothing there.
I raised my hand and let it settle between his ears.
He closed his eyes.
“We’ve been here before,” I whispered. “You and me. Remember? In Green Creek. You always slept in my room.”
He sighed.
“Mom told me once that it was easier to process grief as a wolf. Humans are so complex, vast and contradictory. But when you’re a wolf, it’s easier. Things make more sense. All those little shades of gray fade away into nothing. I didn’t understand her then. I do now. I want to shift, but I won’t. Because this hurt, this pain, is mine. I won’t let it be stripped from me. It’s so blue I’m drowning in it, and I think I’m breaking. Grief is funny like that. There are days when I can tell myself I’m forgetting. That it’s behind me. And then there’s an ocean of blue, and I don’t know how to keep my head above water.”
He opened one violet eye, studying me.
I smiled at him, pressing my thumb against his forehead. “You think you know what’s right. That sacrificing yourself is going to keep the rest of us safe. But you’re a Bennett now, because a name is a name is a name. And I’m sorry for that. It’s a heavy burden but one that means you’ll never be alone again.”
He closed his eyes, turning his head inward, hiding his face.
I said, “So do what you think you need to, so long as you remember that this isn’t how it ends for you. Or for me. We’re more than this. We deserve more. After everything we’ve been through, we’re owed. And if you think I’m just going to leave you here, then you don’t know me very well. I’ve got my claws in you now. Where you go, I go. And if that means following you into the dark, so be it.”
His tail thumped against my legs again.
And then we slept.
I DREAMED OF A CLEARING.
I ran as a wolf.
My pack was with me, their voices in my head, singing BrotherLoveSonPack you are here you are here and i will eat you up i love you so so so much run with us run and feel the earth feel the pack it’s green green green because hope never dies hope always remains so long as we’re here.
They sang, a wolfsong that tore at my skin, and it was violet and terrible, but it was mine, it was for me, and it said please please don’t leave me don’t leave me carter carter carter i do what i do because i have to it’s the only way and i i i thought i was alone i thought i would always be alone but then i found you i found you in this storm and i thought you were the sun i thought you were home i thought you were mine.
I howled, and the world shook.
WHEN I AWOKE, he was gone.
The fire was dead, embers barely smoldering.
The cabin was cold.
I blinked up at the ceiling, still caught in the dream of running with my pack, his voice in my head like we were connected, like the threads between us had reformed.
I rubbed at the ache in my chest.
I sat up.
My neck hurt.
I felt empty, hollowed out.
I stood and went to the window.
Clouds had gathered again in the night. They threatened more snow.
Paw prints broke through the thin crust of snow outside the cabin.
A red leaf lay in one of the prints, having fallen from a tree near the cabin still caught in autumn.